My Castle
After having been away two and a half days,
Reveling in the freedom of transience,
I've returned, safe, sound, and skeptical,
To whatever piece of the American Dream I've been sold,
Told to call "home sweet home," my "castle,"
Because home ownership is as close to apotheosis
As Americans can project, for their crass expectations.
Now, late this ceaselessly rainy Thursday evening,
My dismal spirit can't miss the implications
Of my protruding veins, my eyes' broken blood vessels.
All it knows, with certitude,
Is that the only home it has to go to is no home at all,
Because though crowded with detritus,
It's empty and doesn't have any room for me.
10/08/09 - (1)
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